Faith's Fantasies
by rebelrsr
Summary: A collection of PWPs. Buffy decides to fulfill some of Faith's fantasies. WARNING: Contains mild, but consensual, BDSM
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All things Buffy belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and lots of people in expensive suits. I'm not making any money here, just trying to create a happier Buffyverse for my favorite characters

Spoilers: None, really. Set post-Chosen

When we met outside the Bronze all those years ago, I never thought we'd end up together. Hey, I mean, you were straight, right? It didn't keep me from hoping. And I swear the only reason you kicked my ass in all those sparring sessions was because I was way too busy looking at yours. Man, that didn't mean I wasn't comin' up with some wicked fantasies starring the two of us, though…

I can't say I spend a lot of time thinking about the "why" of us. Not really my style. But right now, you've got me really thinking. See, when I finally got up the ovaries to admit what I felt for you on the trip to Cleveland, I wanted to do it right. Nothing hidden. Not one secret. I thought my face was going to burst into flames I was blushing so hard. I explained about leatherdykes, femme tops, and Daddies. Somehow I even admitted to having this stupid list of requirements for my eventual mate. Number Six always made you laugh: Likes to be called Sir or Ma'am. Even though you didn't get it, you stuck around. And, over the years, you even tried to fulfill my fantasies (including Number Six). It didn't work. You never could get past the idea that I really wanted you to hurt me, and I couldn't find a way to push your buttons enough to get you to punish me for all the things I've done (and continue to do) to hurt you. We settled in to domestic bliss, and things have been good. Although, I have always wondered just what it would have been like if you weren't so vanilla.

Now I think I'm about to find out. Last week, I got home from work to discover Xander coming out of the basement. As soon as he saw me, he started laughing. That was pretty freaky, 'cause Xander usually leers a little when he looks at me. Laughing Xander made me nervous. Once he and his tool belt disappeared, I went down to check out the work. There was a brand new padlock on the basement door. Who the fuck puts a lock on the door to the basement? I admit it – curiosity was getting the better of me, but I couldn't find a key anywhere. Hey, I'm a Slayer, though, so I don't need a key. I found out pretty quick that Xander wasn't the only Scooby in on this. Red must have helped, too, because I couldn't break the lock.

I waited until you got home and pretended I'd never tried to investigate the work in the basement. While you were in the shower, though, I searched your pockets and found a tiny padlock key on your key ring. Hands shaking from adrenaline, I rushed to the basement door. The lock opened easily, and I turned on the light as I opened the door. The basement stayed really dark even with the light on. I stepped around the stairwell, noticing that only one bulb seemed to be working. In the far corner of the basement, I saw that Xander had installed sound dampening tiles on the ceiling and the walls. I headed in that direction, but only got a few steps before you grabbed me from behind and slipped something over my eyes.

I couldn't see anything now and was starting to get creeped out. Maybe that's why my voice cracked when I asked: "B, what's goin' on?" I felt your arms wrap around me, hands resting on my breasts. Your breath tickled my ear as you chuckled. It didn't sound amused. "I had Will spell the lock _and_ the key, Faith. I knew as soon as you took the key. Since you seem to be curious about what Xander is making us, why don't I give you a tour?" I nearly moaned at the deep, husky sound of your voice, and moisture gathered between my legs. You kept your hands on my breasts from behind, stroking the nipples through my T-shirt as you guided me farther into the basement. By the time we stopped moving, I was dripping, hot, and hard. My breath was coming in ragged gasps, and I desperately wanted to get my hands on your skin. I let my hands slide behind me, reaching for the zipper on the jeans you always wear at home, but the fabric felt different. It wasn't denim I touched, but something soft and supple. Leather? _You're wearing leather, B?_ I opened my mouth to make a comment, but your hands left off stroking to grab my wrists. You drew my hands in front of my body; you moved around me as well. Cold metal wrapped around my right wrist and closed with a click. Handcuffs? As you locked the cuff around my left wrist, I heard myself moan. "Please, baby." You didn't respond. I felt you clip something to the links between the handcuffs. Suddenly, my arms were raised over my head, and they kept rising until I was balancing on the balls of my feet. My shoulders screamed in protest, and I could feel the metal of the cuffs cutting into my wrists. Despite the arousal that had me breathing in hoarse gasps, I was starting to panic. _What the hell was going on?_ "B, come on. This isn't funny. Take the damned blindfold off, and get me out of these cuffs." It should have sounded like an order. It came out as an embarrassingly high-pitched whine.

Nothing. There was no response, no sound at all. I couldn't even sense where you were. I tried to rise up on my toes and unhook the cuffs from their anchor. I couldn't reach high enough. I tried to pull the cuffs apart. Red must have put a spell on these, too. _Damn, B. I'm never gonna be able to look your friends in the eye_. I gave up and just dangled there, feeling unbearably turned on and a little pissed off. I nearly yelled when your hands suddenly played at the waistband of my sweat pants. With one swift tug, you pulled them off. They fell to the floor, tangling with my bare feet. "B, Buffy, tell me…" This time, I did yell – as pain exploded in my ass. When the second blow fell, I was a bit more prepared. All you got out of me was a hissing breath. We were locked in a contest now; you trying to break my control with that paddle, and me resisting. I lost count of the times you painted my ass with fire. I was losing focus. Each time the paddle landed, I could feel my wetness increase and my nipples ached under my shirt. I stopped struggling. The next blow landed, and I started to beg. "Please, no more, please, ma'am, no more." You weren't listening. Twice more you slammed that paddle into my ass. "_Ma'am_, no more." I was sobbing; the blindfold was soaked with my tears. Finally, you did stop. You started kneading my blazing butt, and I jerked forward. It was the wrong thing to do. The two blows that punished my mistake took me off my feet, dangling, beaten, from my wrists. When you touched me this time, I sobbed in pain, but kept myself from pulling away.

"Good, girl." Finally, you broke the silence. The stroking was relieving some of the pain, but ratcheting up my desire. My head was swimming, and I was making sounds I would never have imagined possible. I was beyond pleading in words. My hips thrust forward, inviting you to touch my swollen clit. You stopped touching me, and I felt you move in front of me. There was the sound of a zipper and a faint jingling. Your hands touched my face, warm, tender. The blindfold came off, and I blinked against the last of the tears and the light. I gasped at the sight of you – naked breasts topped with rock hard nipples and covered with a sheen of sweat. Your hazel eyes were dark with desire. I watched as your right hand dropped to the open fly of your leather pants, and I almost passed out. An enormous black dildo nestled in the leather, and I caught a glimpse of the harness you wore as you started to move toward me. "How do you like your valentine's gift, F?"


	2. Chapter 2

I've always loved waking up in the morning. Well, OK, mornings in prison – maybe not. But since moving to Cleveland, waking up has been the best part of my day. See, that's when I get to watch you. You always seem so relaxed, and I'm not distracted by the love and desire in your eyes. So, when I felt the sun on my body today, I was prepared to take part in my favorite sport, Buffy Watching.

I started to stretch and roll over, but my arms were caught in the sheets. _Damn. Hope you're not awake and watching me this morning. How fucking embarrassing_. Mumbling a few choice words under my breath, I jerked and twisted but couldn't get the things off. OK, enough was enough. I opened my eyes…Hmmm. Let's try that again. I opened my eyes…Either this was the Apocalypse we've been dreading for years, or I was blindfolded. Since we hadn't lost against a Big Bad yet, the blindfold was a safe bet. Suddenly, my warm and sleepy mood was something a whole lot hotter. My breathing quickened and deepened. "Hey, B, what ya got planned today?"

I was expecting silence. You'd used that with devastating effect last month in the basement. After all these years, I should have known you wouldn't do what I expected.

"Well, Lover, you'll have to wait to find out." Your voice had just a hint of morning gravel in it. Damn, I loved that husky purr. You snuggled up to me, running your hands across my stomach and up to my breasts. I moaned and arched into your hands.

You continued to tease and pinch my hardened nipples. "You sleep like the dead, Lover. Good for me; I was able to get you ready."

"Re-ready for what, B?" I managed to get out.

"Well, you've been pushing at me since we left Sunnydale to pay you back for all the shit you pulled way back when." Your hands moved away from my nipples and traced a slow, torturous path down my stomach. "You've done one hell of a job turning your life around. Now, for most people, that would be enough. But not you, Faith. You always want to do things the hard way."

I yelped when you nipped my right breast. Damn, that hurt.

You simply chuckled and moved your hands lower. I bent my knees and pushed with my feet, trying to get a little more contact. Didn't work. You just made this disappointed little hum and took your hands away. _'Kay, B, don't have to tell me twice_. I stretched back out on the bed.

"Sorry, B. Didn't know I couldn't move."

"That's OK, baby. I'll just add this transgression to the list I've been making.

_OK, Vanilla Buffy has left the room._ I decided to push and see just how far you were willing to take this. "Whatever, B. I've been begging you to punish me for years. Kinda figured after all this time, you just didn't have it in you."

"You always did say you weren't real bright. Well, Faith, guess this proves your point." Damned if you didn't sound amused. "See, I've been doing a lot of thinking. And, maybe you're right about something else. I do have a lot of unresolved issues with what happened back in Sunnydale. You remember, don't you? Setting out to steal my boyfriend, talking me in to stealing, siding with the Big Bad, holding my best friend at knife point."

My arousal ebbed at your words. I could see each of those events in my head like they'd just happened yesterday. A sour taste filled my mouth and my stomach clenched in pain.

You must have noticed the change in my body because your hands were suddenly back. They ran a soothing pattern from my hands, up to my shoulders, and back again. "When I think about those things, Faith, I still get angry. Mostly, though, I just feel sad. Because we wasted so much time on different sides of the fight." You were purring the words in my ear. I was relaxing again. "But I think all those things still bother you, too, Faith. So, I'm going to do what you've been begging me to do – I'm going to punish you for each and every thing you did to hurt me."

_Yes_, I shouted silently. I didn't care how bad you hurt me, we – _I_ – needed to get rid of some of the guilt. And, maybe, you'd be able to let go of that lingering anger.

The gentle caresses stopped, and I felt you move off the bed. "The list is pretty long, so we're going to do this in sessions. Let's start at the beginning, shall we?"

"Sure, B, whatever you want."

"You can't know how happy your agreement makes me, Faith." I shivered a bit at the mocking lilt. "Can you guess what's at the beginning of my list, Lover?"

I was listening so intently to your movements, I almost missed the question. "Ahh," I stalled, mind working frantically. _Fuck, B, could you be more specific. I did a lot of crazy things back in the 'Dale._ It must have taken me too long to answer.

"You disappoint me." Damn, that disapproving tone got to me. My skin felt hot and I was dripping with sweat – and other fluids.

"Sorry, B. Just, there's a lot of stuff to choose from," I mumbled.

You climbed back on the bed and sat next to me. "Well, since you can't make up your mind, I'll give you a little hint. Scott Hope."

_Wow, B. All the really evil things I did, and that's at the top of your list?_ "OK."

"I don't think you feel real sorry yet, Faith. Maybe this will help." I felt you pinching and pulling at my right nipple just before everything exploded in a haze of pain. You'd snapped a nipple clamp on.

I couldn't decide if I was hot or cold. Chills raced up and down my body, but the sweat poured off of me. I swallowed hard against a surge of nausea. Finally, the pain faded into a dull throbbing. I breathed a bit easier and relaxed slightly. You were still sitting next to me; your leg was pressed against my side.

"Feeling a bit better, F?" Oh, yeah, I wasn't the only one getting off on this. Your voice had dropped lower – and it wasn't a result of just getting out of bed.

"Five by five, B."

"Now, that's a phrase I haven't heard in a while," you cooed in my ear. I squirmed and moaned as your breath drifted over me. "Now, we can mark Scott off the list and move on." I tensed without meaning to. "Mmm, someone's a bit nervous about what's coming up."

You leaned down and ran your tongue from my mound to my breasts. "After Scott, we get to the sporting goods store."

"Yeah, B, I'm real sorry about that." And I was, sort of. I mean I think you completely enjoyed it in the heat of the moment. But afterwards, even discounting Finch, those morals of yours kicked in. I screamed and jerked at the bonds holding my arms when you put the clamp on my other nipple. Fuck, this was way worse than the first time. There was a new fire radiating from my left nipple, but my violent movements had revived the embers in the other.

I lost track of everything. My world narrowed to the burning in my chest and the desire dripping from my body. The agony eventually started to fade, and I dropped back onto the bed, panting. Slowly, minute by minute, my awareness widened. You had moved from your spot next to me and now rested between my spread legs. "B…" I couldn't form any other words.

"Don't worry, Faith. This part won't hurt a bit."


	3. Chapter 3

I leaned against the concrete wall and tried to breathe slowly. Sweat dripped down my face, hell off every part of me.

"See, Faith, last time we just touched the tip of the iceberg, so to speak. Scott, well, he wasn't much of a loss. And the sporting goods store? I did agree to that; although, it took a bit of talking on your part. This, though, is big. Maybe the worst sin you committed in Sunnydale," you breathed in my ear. The feel of the rough, cold concrete pressing into my breasts faded. An inferno blazed nearby; there was no other explanation for the heat in the room. "Figured it out, yet, F?"

You'd just asked me a question. I knew that. Your voice had gone up a bit at the end, but I couldn't understand the words. My blood pounded so fiercely that I felt dizzy. I couldn't pull enough oxygen into my lungs. "B…"

"Yes?" You sounded amused again. It really tickled your funny bone when I went non-verbal during one of your games.

"I th-think," Oh, God, it was so hard to think with you pressed against me, "was it the fight on the roof?"

I bit back a whine of protest when you moved away. Damn, that meant I'd guessed wrong, again. It wasn't fair. It wasn't. I'd done so many things to you and the Scoobies in Sunnydale. How was I supposed to know which one you thought was the worst? It wasn't like we ever talked about that shit. My internal complaining ended as a sharp popping sound broke the stillness. Only after the sound did the pain register.

It wasn't pain, pain. I mean you'd showed me the braided leather flogger you were planning on using. It stung, a bit. Like a really bad sunburn. The skin all tight and hot. The real kicker was the amount of time we'd been at this. You'd danced around the subject of 'my worst sin' at least 5 times. I think. I'd kinda lost count at three. Every time I didn't answer you correctly, you grabbed that freakin' flogger and got to work. I probably looked like a lobster from shoulders to thighs. "B, can't you just tell me what you want me to say? I mean, fuck, it ain't like there are a few choices. More like hundreds."

You think I woulda learned by now that trying to change the rules of the game while it was in progress caused nothing but problems. The next time the flogger met my skin, the pop had changed to a cracking sound and the force of the blow drove me forward into the wall.

You stopped after that. I heard you move toward me again. That last shot was a bit more like it. Less play and a touch more pain. I thanked a God I hadn't spoken to in years I was facing away from you because I smiled at the increased burn. Then your lips brushed my shoulder and I groaned.

"That last comment wasn't nice, Faithy. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were giving the wrong answers on purpose." Your lips left my shoulder and sharp teeth nipped at my ear. "What do you think I should do about this latest transgression, baby?"

"Swing like you mean it, Blondie. I could be here all day trying to guess what's in your head. Tell me what I'm paying off today and let me have it."

"Oh, Faith." You sounded sad as you pushed away from me. "And I thought we'd come so far. This is more than just a simple punishment, sweetie. We're going beyond making you feel sorry. You have to look deep inside and realize which of your actions hurt both of us the most."

The flogger connected, only this time I hadn't heard it first. I'd been too busy listening to your husky voice and basking in the desire snaking through me. The pain barely registered before you started working the leather down my back, stacking the stripes close together. By the time you stopped, I was moaning and close to begging. It hurt so much, and I'd never been so turned on.

"Ready to try again, Faith?"

Oh, fuck. I didn't know if I could go another round without a little relief first. But, I had learned a few things. "Sure, B. Ready when you are," I choked out.

You moved forward until you were snug against my back. I tried, I swear I did, but the whimper leaked out. Your tongue traced one of the newer welts, and I pushed back against you, ignoring the way the motion pulled at my battered back. "Please. B. Please."

"Please what, baby? Please punish you for all those very bad things you did? Please help you take responsibility for your actions?" Your hand slid between my body and the wall, traveling slowly down my thigh and inching closer to helping me relieve a bit of the tension you'd created. "Or please touch me because I am wet and dripping and I really need to cum?"

"Please, all of the above," I gasped out. You were so close to my clit, and I was tensed, waiting for even the lightest of touches. It never came.

"I'm thinking you need to take one more stab at this, Faith."

Oh my fucking God, you can't be serious. Every part of my body was on fire, wanting you so bad.

"Now, sweetie. I know you're disappointed. You were so wet, baby. But this is important." You were still close. I could hear your breathing. "Let's go back to the question…What's the greatest sin you committed in Sunnydale?"

"Oh, fuck, B, I really don't know."

You were pressed against me in a flash. "Shhh, baby. Don't get all worked up." A hand trailed lightly down my back before cupping my ass cheek. "How about a little hint?"

I barely heard the words, but grasped them like a lifeline. "Yeah, B. A hint. Please." The last came out more as a groan than anything.

"You remember that night Angel and I tricked you into thinking he was Angelus?" Both hands now caressed my ass. Praying you wouldn't get pissed, I shuffled my feet as far away from the wall as I could, dipping my back. "Forgetting who's in charge here?" You asked before smacking my offered butt with your hand.

"No, no, I know you're in charge, B."

"Then answer the question," you ordered. Your voice had dropped, getting husky, and your hands roamed the insides of my spread thighs.

One slim finger dipped into my sex, teasing. Oh, God, I had to answer you. "Yeah, B, I remember."

A second finger joined in. I was close to hyperventilating. "You committed the sin in question that night." The fingers left and I whined. "Don't worry, baby. I'll be right back. You look so good, offering yourself like that."

I heard clothing hit the floor. The next time you touched me, I could feel your skin and your hard nipples against my back. Your fingers returned with more purpose, sinking deep inside. "I think we'll have to revisit this session, lover," you said. "I just lost my desire to teach. I've got a new focus right now."


	4. Chapter 4

I stared at the phone in shock. Must be something wrong with my voice mail, 'cause no way did you leave that message. I flipped the phone closed and shook my head. Man, I'm glad it's Friday. Maybe I can talk you into going out to one of the bars with me tonight.

I headed to the bedroom to change clothes. You used to get all hot and bothered when I wore my tight leather pants. Maybe I can fulfill one of your fantasies this time. It took a lot longer than it should have to find those pants. Stuffed way back in the closed with some stakes needing a good sharpening and about a zillion pairs of your shoes. Who the hell needs all those shoes? It ain't like you been wearing 'em or anything. But I'd bet money that if I tossed even one pair, you'd know.

Pulling on the leather took more effort than it used to. Hadn't really been Leather Girl since getting out of the joint. I was strictly jeans these days. Just as I finished buttoning up and was looking for a tank to wear, my cell rang. I checked the ID, hoping it was you, but no joy. Red, damn.

"Yo, Red."

"Um, hi, Faith. Buffy wanted me to call and make sure you'd listened to your voicemail. She said there was something important in one of the messages." Does this chick ever breathe?

Then I actually caught up with the Willowbabble and all the air exploded from my lungs.

"Faith? Faith? Are you still there?"

"Yeah, Red. Still here." I ran a shaky hand through my hair. "Did B say what the message was about?" _I'm gonna die if Red knows what's going on_.

I could hear the worry in the voice on the other end of the line. "No. She just said it was important and you should listen to your messages. Do you think I should call her and see if anything's wrong?"

Fuck. I needed to make sure she didn't call. I got this sinking suspicion you knew I wasn't gonna follow directions. If Red called, you'd probably add that to my list of 'transgressions.' "No, Red. I'll check the messages. If things seem off, I'll call B myself." Then, knowing the best friend code by now, I added, "If there's anything wrong I'll call you back. Tell Kenn I said hi." I hung up immediately.

Damn. I'd wasted a lot of time getting dressed. How much time did I have left? Grabbing the first tank out of the drawer, I punched the button to connect to the voicemail and hurried toward the basement. Galloping down the stairs, I listened to your husky voice explain your plans for this evening. Just to make sure I hadn't missed anything, I replayed the message for a third time. OK. I had maybe five minutes. Hopefully, that would be enough.

You'd left the padlock on the basement door unlatched, so I pulled the lock off and opened the door. Slayer sight meant I didn't have to slow down long enough to find a light switch. I kept moving to the far end of the basement, now the 'play room.' We'd been at this for a few months now and you'd gathered a pretty nice selection of toys. As ordered, I pulled the leather flogger, your favorite lexan paddle, and a brand new Scottish tawse from the armoire. Putting everything on the table you'd put in the room, I cursed under my breath. Your car just pulled into the garage. I wasn't going to have enough time to get everything ready.

Running through the list of directions in my head, I decided chained up and clothed was better than naked and free. Quickly I pulled the sheepskin-lined cuffs around my ankles and tightened the buckles. Now came the tricky part. Standing on my toes, I stuck my left arm in the cuff dangling from the ceiling. I was just able to do up the buckle with my right hand. There was no way I was getting my right hand in the remaining shackle. The door to the garage slammed closed, and I heard your footsteps in the entry hall.

Show time. I took a deep breath. It would ruin my badass reputation if it looked like I'd gotten aroused tying myself up. You must have engaged stealth mode, because I didn't hear you come down the stairs. But, with all that deep breathing I had going on, I got a whiff of your perfume. I stopped trying to get my heart rate down. It was impossible now. Pretty soon it was going to pop out of my chest.

"Hey, B." I croaked, feeling like an idiot chained up in the basement in my clubbing clothes. I jerked a bit when you ran a hand over my leather-clad ass.

"Hmmm, you look good enough to eat, baby," you purred. I relaxed a bit. You didn't sound mad about the outfit. "Still, I did ask you to be naked." You had that mocking lilt in your voice you always used during the Game. Like you couldn't pretend to be mad, so you got kinda playful instead.

You didn't say anything else, and I finally realized you were waiting on me to answer. "Oh, ah, sorry, B. I didn't think the message was serious until Red called." I shifted a little.

I groaned out loud when you pressed up against my front. Oh, fuck, that felt good. Warm tongue licking my throat and two warm hands pulling at my nipples. Trying not to be too obvious, I sucked in a breath and pushed my chest out, trying for even more contact. Usually this kinda stuff gets me into trouble, but you just chuckled and rolled my nipples between your fingers. At this rate, I was going to cum before we got to the reason for the voice mail.

"You know, Faith, I sat at work this morning, listening to the kids tell me about one problem after another. All I could think about, though, was you and the way you have such a hard time following directions. Now, we never finished our discussion about your worst sin." _Come on, B. Not that again. Please, just finish this. I'm so close_. "If you'd been down here, in the shackles, with no clothes on, I would have told you the answer to the question I asked during our last session. But," there is was, that sad sound in your voice, "you weren't. Now we have to take care of your disobedience first.'

You pulled a blindfold out of the waistband of your skirt and fastened it around my head. Hands lifted my right arm up, and the final cuff closed. Now, you moved away, and I strained to hear what you were doing. The armoire opened, but I couldn't tell what you'd pulled out. Wait, was that a knife coming out of a sheath? My tank was soaked in sweat and I didn't even want to think about pulling the leather pants down my legs. Leather plus wet equal a lot of work.

A hand suddenly cupped my sex, and I thrust forward – just a little – to get more pressure. "Now, Faith, tonight's lesson is all about obedience. If you follow my directions, it won't be too awful for you. Just a little frustrating. However, if you resist in anyway, we could be here a long time. Understand?"

Now, I've gotten better at figuring out how your mind works after all these years. But my only response to your question was, "Huh?" I mean, come on, B. Vague much?

"OK, baby. Let me spell it out for you." You were still stroking me through the skin tight leather. Good thing I didn't wear these much anymore, 'cause they were ruined for sure by now. Not even dry cleaning would get the stains out of the crotch now. "I'm going to get these sexy clothes off. And, once you're bare, I'm going to spend some quality time reacquainting myself with your charms."

"Fuck, yeah. Sounds good, B." Obviously, I hadn't learned enough over the last weeks. You moved your hand away.

"You know, Faith, this is why we have to continue with your lessons. You just don't learn, do you?" That husky voice had hardened a little.

Dropping my head as much as I could, I mumbled, "Sorry, B."

The hand was back, pressing a little harder than before. "Now, where was I?" you asked. I wasn't dumb enough to say anything, so you had to answer your own question. "Oh, yes, I'm going to get up close and personal with this beautiful body. Now, while I'm doing that, you are not to move or speak, and you most certainly _will not_ cum. Understand?"

I was in trouble. So much trouble. No way could I hold still with you touching me. "B? I think I got it, but I do have one question."

"Only one? That's good. You must have been paying attention this time." You leaned in and nipped at a breast. Knowing the Game was already in progress, I bit my lip and tightened my muscles, but I never moved. "What a good girl," you cooed. "That deserves a reward. Go ahead and ask your question, Faith."

"Wh-what happens if I can't follow the directions? If I move or – or something else?" Like freaking explode. I still had my clothes on, so you weren't even really playing yet, and I was on the edge of orgasm.

"Oh, Faith, I hope you don't disobey." I sucked in a breath. You'd started raking your teeth along my throat. "If you can't follow all the directions, I'll have to use one of the toys you got out for me and then we'll start all over."

That brought up another question, but I never got the chance to ask. "I'm going to set my watch for fifteen minutes, baby. If you can just follow directions for that amount of time, I'll make sure you get a great big award. Are you ready to get started?"

No. But the sooner we kicked off the Game, the sooner we'd get to the finale, so to speak. "Ready when you are, B."

I could hear the smile in your voice. "Fantastic, Faith. Let me just get these clothes off and then I'll set the alarm." You moved back just a little, and your voice was very serious when you said, "Don't move, sweetie. This blade's really sharp." I froze. I knew just how sharp our weapons were. A steady pressure ran down the leg of my pants, first the right leg and then the left. I felt your hand grip the gaping leather and what had to be a knife cut through the thicker leather from hip to waistband. You peeled away the leather panels and cool air touched my skin.

You must have noticed how wet I was, because you hummed a little and warm fingers slid through my folds. Fuck. I gritted my teeth and fought to stay still. You were so evil. One fingertip brushed back and forth over my clit a couple of times before it went away. I was trembling, and I hoped like hell that didn't count as moving because no way could I stop.

Cold metal brushed my shoulders and sides and the tank was gone. OK. It was time to focus on winning this little contest. "Clock's ticking, baby. Let's see how good you can be." You started out slowly. Just a little nibble on each breast and fingers trailing over my stomach. Still, after the foreplay before you set the alarm, I wasn't sure I was going to survive the 'slow' part.

I should have begged for more slow, because you skipped the intermediate setting and went right to full speed. Teeth grabbed my nipples and pulled them away from my chest. My breath exploded with each exhale. But so far, I hadn't moved or made sound. Insistent fingers probed my dripping center; two slipped inside and started up a quick thrust. Moving wasn't the problem. I could feel a mind-blowing orgasm tightening my muscles.

In an effort to hold off on pleasure, I tried to think of something other than your fingers inside me and your lips and teeth wandering over my skin. It wasn't like you'd hurt me. Hell, I thought a spanking or some stripes from the flogger were hot. But I didn't want to disappoint you.

It was working. I felt the wave subside a bit, and I relaxed some. The clock was ticking; I was going to make it.

Or, I thought I was, until a loud buzzing filled the air. Your fingers slipped out, and I barely restrained a whimper. A vibrator skimmed my neck and shoulders, dropping lower with each pass. It took long seconds to tease my nipples. They loved the vibration and stood stiffly at attention by the time the wand dropped further.

I could tell you'd gone to your knees from the angle of the vibrator and the way you pressed against my legs. A hand gently separated my outer labia, clearing the way for the humming toy. "You're doing so good, baby. There's just five ten minutes left." The vibrator teased my clit and then began to probe my opening. Oh, fuck, I might last another five seconds, but no way could I hold out for another five minutes. With a forceful thrust, you drove the vibrator into me, and you sucked on my clit at the same time. With a hoarse shout, my body took control and spasmed in pleasure.

When the tremors finally stopped, I hung limply from the chains and waited for you to announce my punishment. I blinked when you removed the blindfold. I expected to see disappointment or that kinda mock sad look you use for the Game. Instead, a beautiful smile tilted your lips. "Wow, sweetie. That was magnificent."

For the second time tonight, I managed only "Huh?"

Wiping sweat from my face, you laughed. "I exaggerated just a bit, beloved. By the time I got to the vibrator, you'd already beaten the clock. Did you enjoy your reward?"


	5. Chapter 5

"Faith?"

"Yeah, B?"

"I…" You broke off, and I dragged one eye open to see if everything was OK. You sounded worried, and you seemed fascinated with the scar on my stomach. _The_ scar – the one from that fucking fight on the roof. Suddenly, _I_ was worried.

Sitting up, I cupped your chin and made you look at me. "Buffy, what's wrong?"

All I got for an answer was this funny little smile. A tear traced its way down your cheek. Feeling sick all of a sudden, I swallowed hard. "Hey, B, I didn't do anything did I?" It was my greatest fear, that I'd piss you off or hurt you and you'd leave.

Your smile got brighter, but I still didn't relax. "No, baby. You didn't do anything."

"Then what's with the Broody Buffy routine?"

You laughed. Damn, I loved that sound. "Broody Buffy, huh? Maybe I should dress all in black and buy a leather duster, too." A slender finger traced a path over the scar before sliding upward to my left nipple. "Didn't mean to scare you, Faith."

Aroused from the touch but still not sure what was up, I managed to say, "You haven't explained why you were upset, B."

You absently played with my nipple and bit your lip, a sure sign of heavy thinking. "I woke up and started wondering if you've been enjoying our game." Hazel eyes lifted briefly to mine before darting away.

"Hell, yeah, B. Did you miss all the screaming and moaning? Not to mention the orgasms."

"I just wondered, that's all." Your voice sounded tiny, almost afraid.

"B? You know we don't have to keep playing, right? We were going along just fine without it." I pulled gently at your hair to get your attention. "I don't ever want you to feel freaked by what we do together."

A slow smiled worked its way across your face. "We moved a little fast, Faith." The finger on my breast multiplied as you added a thumb to help pinch. The pressure grew until I moaned from the pain and the incredible arousal spiking through my body. "I wasn't worried about me, baby." Your other hand traced my lips. "The Game, as you called it, isn't really about making up for the stuff you did in the past anymore. You OK with that?"

I tried to answer, but couldn't get the words out. Instead, my head jerked up and down, signaling just how good I was with the situation.

"Excellent." Oh, yeah. You were over the worry. "Now, lover, we haven't finished up with that night in the Mansion."

I panted as you continued to torture my breasts. "Still n-not sure…" my words ended in a moan. A warm tongue traced a path from your hands to the top of my mound.

Laughter vibrated my stomach where your head rested. "Poor Faith. Have you been trying to figure out the answer to my question all this time?"

Arching, trying to get you to continue farther down, I choked out, "Yes."

"Well, that's disappointing. I was convinced you'd figure out that one really big mistake you made in Sunnydale." Lips teased the insides of my spread thighs. "Since this is so difficult for you, maybe we should try something different this time." You pulled away. I watched carefully as you knelt on the bed beside me. "So far, I've punished you and tried to encourage you to find the answer. I think I have a better way, though.

"Stand up." Your voice hardened, and I scrambled to untangle from you and the sheets. I bounced in place next to the bed feeling awkward and uncomfortable. What the hell were you up to, B? My eyes widened and my mouth dropped open. You lay back on the bed and opened yourself. Voice deep and husky, you murmured, "I'm all yours, baby."

Even though I wanted to dive right in, so to speak, there had to be a catch. We were playing the Game, after all. "What am I supposed to do, B?" Fuck, what the hell was I thinking? Every part my body knew what it wanted to do.

You chuckled and held out a hand. "Well, Faith, let me explain it to you." I let you pull me onto the bed, stretched out along your right side. Warm fingers trailed along my jaw before you grabbed my hair and pulled me in for a rough kiss. "This time, you're going to please me. If you do a good job, I'll tell you the answer to the question."

I grinned. This was going to be cake.

You poked my dimple and frowned. "I don't think you're taking this seriously." Well, hell. I fought to bury the smile. "Maybe you need something to help you focus on the task at hand."

"What? B, hey, I didn't mean nothing," I protested. But you moved away and slid off the other side of the bed. Striding across the room, you dug through a bag under a chair. You found whatever you were looking for and turned around. "Holy fuck," I mumbled. You'd gone shopping without me.

You came back to the bed and motioned for me to kneel in front of you. Reluctantly, I pushed up and did as you asked. Wrapping a web belt around my waist, you locked both my wrists into the cuffs at the back of the belt. I tested the material. Red hadn't seen this contraption. I could get out any time, but I knew that wasn't part of the Game. The cuffs stayed on.

I didn't move even when you crawled back onto the bed and lay there looking at me. "Now, are you ready to get started?" you purred.

"Hell, yeah, B." You smirked at my quick answer.

Sucking in a deep breath and pressing into the bed, you mocked, "Show me what you got, F."

Moving with my arms clamped behind me was more difficult than I thought. I nearly toppled over trying to kiss your thigh. My face burned when you laughed. Gritting my teeth and concentrating, I moved my legs farther apart to help with the balance problem and bent at the waist. You wanted me to please you; I could certainly do that, but I wasn't going to hurry.

Starting at your ankle, I ran my tongue slowly up a muscled leg. I brushed gently at the wiry brown curls at the top, catching a few in my teeth and pulling. Your breath faltered, and I smelled your arousal. Releasing the hair, I took a return trip down the other leg. My back was breaking and I didn't really know what I wanted to do next. I needed my hands for this. Sitting back on my heels, I met your eyes. Desire burned in the hazel depths.

I relaxed. This was a Game we played. I was good with games. Inching forward, I crawled between your spread legs. It took a few tries, but I finally pushed until my knees rested against your inner thighs. Your mound glistened with moisture. Ignoring that for the moment, I leaned down and nibbled your breast. Taking the nipple into my mouth fully and applying suction caused you to groan and press into me. Good. You were enjoying this, too.

I alternated between breasts for a few minutes and then nipped a path to your throat. Laving your pulse point, I felt your heart pounding violently. "You like this, B?"

"It's not bad. But I'm sure you can do better," you gasped out.

I almost laughed, but managed to hold it in. Damn, you weren't going to give an inch. "Maybe, but I gotta know…What's the big mistake I made, B?" I tugged your earlobe into my mouth before sliding back down to worship your breasts.

You started rhythmically pressing your pelvis into my chest. I pulled back immediately. "No fair, lover. I don't get my answers if you don't like my technique. No getting off on your own."

I smirked – just a bit – when you whined. But, I couldn't let you get too frustrated. After all, you still hadn't spilled your secret. I scooted back until I knelt between your knees. Now I had access to the prize. I stopped to consider the logistics. If I lay down completely, I'd be pressed tightly into your sex, but breathing might be a problem. On the other hand, simply bending down wouldn't get me the angle I wanted. Breathing wasn't all that important. A lot of wiggling and cursing later, I rested my cheek on your thigh and inhaled deeply. Oh, god, I loved your smell.

Pressing my nose between your outer lips, I separated them enough to get my tongue to your opening. You jerked and slammed into my face. Gonna have to watch that; don't want you to hurt yourself on my teeth. My neck ached and I'd been right about breathing being a bitch, but I dove in. Stiffening my tongue, I plunged it in and out of you, pressing my nose against your clit. Wasn't much in the way of style going on, but it didn't seem to matter. I felt you latch onto my hair just before you pressed my face harder against you. I kept working my tongue into you.

Just when I was sure I'd pass out from the lack of air, your inner muscles clamped onto my tongue and you spasmed. The hands in my hair relaxed and I was able to turn my head and breathe. Once my lungs stopped complaining, I went right back to work. I gently bit your swollen clit and then sucked it into my mouth. I kept up with the hard suction, running my rough tongue over its surface at the same time. It wasn't long before another orgasm hit you hard.

"Wanna go for three, B?" Your eyes were closed and sweat dripped off your body. "No answer? Damn. That must mean I ain't doing too well at this." Thinking hard didn't help. I was out of ideas. Maybe another round of tongue fucking would get you to talk to me. Preparing for going without breathing for a bit, I changed position again, levering myself against you.

Warm hands stopped me. "Come here, love." You tugged at me, and I carefully crawled up the bed. Pressing soft kissed against my chest and throat, you released the cuffs and held my hands in yours. "That was fantastic, Faith."

"Glad you enjoyed, B. Kinda hard to get it right. I'm more of a hands on kinda gal."

You kissed me slow and deep. "And I do love those hands, baby. But I thought you needed a little challenge; you know, a way to earn your answer."

I tried another kiss. Finally breaking away, I panted, "You gonna let me know what I did, or do I gotta jump through some more hoops?"

You lifted my face and looked into my eyes. "You really want to know, Faith?" I nodded. "That night at the mansion, I hung in the chains and I watched that talented mouth nibbling at Angel." I swallowed hard, remembering clearly the feel of his cold flesh pressed into me. "All I could think about, all I wanted, was your lips caressing my skin. You touched Angel, Faith. I was all tied up, with no where to go. Why didn't you touch me?"


	6. Chapter 6

I was officially nervous as I waited for you to get home. The message I'd left a few hours ago had been vague on purpose, but hopefully clued you in to a big surprise. I shifted a little. I wasn't sure when you'd get home, so I got ready early. Finally, when my knees felt like one of the baby Slayers had gotten in a lucky blow with the staff, I heard you come through the front door. "Faith?"

"Downstairs, Baby," I called back. Show time. I straightened my back and rested on my heels. In true Buffy style, you thundered down the stairs. I just barely got myself displayed before you burst into the basement. Your heels clicked on the concrete as you moved closer. Focusing on staying still, I fought the shudder trying to work its way through me. Damn, I was already wet.

"Hmmm, Faith. What's the occasion?" Your husky voice pulled the shudder to the surface and I shook visibly. When I didn't answer the question, you moved closer, stroking my cheek with a single finger. "Do I have to guess?" I kept my eyes down, and my mouth shut. I didn't want to piss you off. No way. But I needed you to get into the Game before I spoke. Thankfully, you figured that out. Tone hardening, you snapped, "Tell me, now!"

My voice squeaked a little as I answered, "Yes, Mistress. I wanted to give you a gift. Something to show you how very sorry I was that I didn't understand what you needed in the Mansion."

Confusion laced your voice. "Faith, you know I wasn't mad about that, right?" A small hand gripped my chin, forcing my head up. "Hey, what's with the Mistress stuff, huh?"

You probably expected a different response, but I kept to my role. I avoided your gaze without moving out of your grasp. "Mistress, I understand you were not angry with your girl. But please allow me to serve you, showing my devotion."

"No, Faith. I don't mind playing, but you need to let me in on the rules and expectations."

Damn. There was no getting around you when you dug in your heels. I slumped. This had gone so wrong. "B, I got to thinking this morning, about Sunnydale and you and how things coulda been different."

"And that somehow turned into Mistress Buffy and her girl? Faith, are you out of your fucking mind?" you almost shouted.

Probably. Hell, no probably about it. I musta been hallucinating when I came up with this idea. I stood up and moved away. "Yeah, guess I should have asked before…" My throat burned. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why couldn't I just leave well enough alone? "Forget it, B. Sorry about everything." I moved toward the stairs.

I'd taken maybe three steps when you spun me around by my arm. "Come on, Faith. I haven't seen this attitude in years. What's the what?" You sounded so worried. It hurt to breathe, and I could feel tears behind my eyes.

"B, I-" I didn't even know what to say. I looked into your eyes and begged silently for some help.

You pulled me into a tight hug and whispered into my throat, "Shhh. It's OK. You surprised me and I freaked a bit." Leaning back so you could meet my eyes, you went on, "Tell me what you want, Faith. I can't give you an answer when I don't have a clue what you want me to do."

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. Part of the scene was giving up control, letting you lead. I was going to stick with that, even if things weren't going as planned. "I want to show you I'm yours, Buffy. Heart, soul, the whole scarred package. I was yours that first night behind the Bronze, you know."

"You've mentioned that a time or two before, Baby. Why the sudden change in focus?" Fingers ran under the collar I'd buckled on, tickling the skin. "This wasn't part of the fantasies you told me about on the trip out of Sunnydale. When did things change?"

Ah, hell, B. Can we just skip the big explanation? The serious look in your hazel eyes was a clear no. "It's always been there, B. Come on. Whips, chains, calling you ma'am. Just the warm up. I decided to take it all the way, that's all." I dropped my head. "Sorry I didn't run it by you first."

"Yes, Faith. A warning might have made things easier." My head snapped up. Oh, shit. Your eyes blazed, and a smirk twisted your lips. "You'll pay for that error. Kneel."

This wasn't outside the boundaries of our current Game set up, but it felt different. Hardly daring to breathe, I dropped to my knees, head bowed.

"Very good, Faith." You were using my name like a title. Taking away my individuality and making it a mark of ownership.

"This is all new to me. How do you want it to work?" Hands stroked through my hair before resting on the collar. "Is this just a part of the Game? Or have we moved beyond that?"

"A little of both, Ma'am?" I felt so shy, and I didn't use Mistress in case you wigged again.

You laughed lightly. "We can start with the Game, my girl. Let me get used to the changes in our relationship."

"Yes, Ma'am." I grinned in relief. If you'd turned me down, I could have dealt, but the way you reacted at first scared me.

"Something funny, girl?"

"No, Ma'am." Sweat gathered on my hairline and the small of my back.

"Good. There's nothing funny about what's going on. You tried to make decisions for me, without discussing things first. That's a big mistake." You took a couple of steps back. "Show me how a good girl serves her Mistress. Go to the toy chest and bring me an appropriate tool for you punishment."

I stood up immediately. "Yes, Mistress." I spoke the title reverently, heat racing through me. I hurried across the concrete floor and peered at the various toys we'd collected. I had no idea what you would want, but I thought it was beyond the paddle or the strap.

"Sometime tonight, Faith."

"Yes, Mistress." I didn't think about it; I pulled the rubber flail out and trotted back over, dropping to my knees and offering you the toy with both hands.

You took the handle and let the three tails dangle to the ground. "Not bad. Not bad, my Faith." The rubber snapped suddenly, giving a loud pop, and I jumped. "This punishment has more than one purpose. First, you need to learn _I_ make the decisions, not you. And I want to test your sincerity. You offered yourself to me, wanting to belong, _needing_ to be mine. What are you willing to do to earn that privilege?"

I didn't know if I should answer, but I risked it. "Anything, Mistress."

"We'll have to work on your impetuous nature, my Faith. But I am pleased with your willingness to serve. Stand up and move to the horse."

I tried to move gracefully, but standing up from a kneel with your hands clasped behind your back was hard. I felt your eyes burning over my body as I walked over to the leather topped wooden sawhorse. I stopped, head bowed and waited.

"Over the horse, my Faith. There will be no bindings tonight. You will stay still and accept your punishment. I want to see you acknowledge my control of you."

"Yes, Mistress." Oh, fuck. This was so hot, and I could feel myself letting go, giving up my own control. I bent over the waist-high horse and placed my hands into the unbuckled cuffs. Although the top was padded, it was uncomfortable and I wiggled to find a better spot.

I felt you move behind me, and I could see the whip brushing restlessly over the floor. "Beg for your punishment, my Faith."

Oh, hey, now, I don't beg. My right hand slipped from the cuff.

"See, Faith, this is my problem. We haven't done anything, and you can't follow orders. If we did this for real, you'd be a permanent bruise or welt." The whip flew across the room. "Get up, Faith. I can't do this, and I'm not sure you can, either."

I shot up and spun around. "No! B, hell, I'm sorry."

A small hand whipped up. "Stop, Faith. Just stop." You picked up the whip and put it back in the chest. "The rest of it…the Game and the toys. I wasn't sure at first, but I do enjoy it. I don't understand what you want from this newest thing."

You were going to walk away. I wasn't going to lose you over this, but I wanted you to understand. "B, the Game, that's freakin hot. But it ain't just about a few snaps of the whip. Remember how much I enjoyed your telling me I couldn't cum while you got me all wound up? Part of the thrill was you being in total control. I struggle every day with Dark Faith. I am so scared I'll give in."

"You'd never do that, Baby. I know you won't."

"That's just it, B. I don't know." I took your hand, threading our fingers. "B, I want…I need your help. If you're making sure I play it straight, that I'm following the rules, there's no way my dark half wins."

"You think wearing a collar and calling me Mistress is the way to do that?" You were still hung up on the title.

"Not if you don't want it, too, B." I sighed, looking at our joined hands. "It's a big commitment, Buffy. We've been together a while, but I've never asked you to make a promise about our relationship. This would be different, for both of us. I'd be more than happy to give myself to you. But you'd have the harder job. I may want your help and control, but that don't mean I won't fight you tooth and nail when the orders start flying. I'll be yours, but I'm gonna still be me."

In true Buffy style, you only heard what you wanted. "You've never asked for a promise? What the fuck?"

"Yeah. We've been together for a few years, but we've never made it formal. Hell, Kenn and Red did that whole handfasting thing. But I wasn't really talking about that. We've never even talked about the future." I could seriously destroy our entire relationship here. Was it worth the risk? If I backed off now, apologized, and changed the topic, you might forget. I couldn't. I'd been avoiding the conversation since we moved to Cleveland. "B, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, laughing, loving, arguing."

"I love you, too, Baby." A beautiful smile lit your features. I waited…and waited. Your smile dimmed when I didn't say anything more. "I'm sensing something else on your mind." You'd tensed up.

I nodded. "Yeah. Think about what you said. You love me. My heart does cartwheels every time you say that. What about the future? Do you see us together in the future?" I forced myself to meet your eyes. "I want a commitment, Buffy. I don't care if it means we get rid of the Game, or that I take all the new toys I bought this morning back. I want to hear you say we're in this forever: you and me."

To my surprise, you moved close, pressing against me. "I'm sorry, Faith."

Oh, God. It hurt so much. Barely able to breathe through the pain in my chest, I tried to pull away, run, run far and fast, away from you and this unbelievable pain. Strong hands held me in place, though. Why wouldn't you let me go? "I'm sorry I never realized you needed more from me. I'll be here, with you, until the very end, my Faith."

"B?"

"I thought you knew, Faith. I just assumed you knew I was in this for the long haul." Tears streaked your face.

I was still working on understanding what had just happened. "You don't do commitment, B. You don't have to say stuff you don't mean."

"Fuck you, Faith." Whoops. Musta said something wrong. I was going to have bruises from your grip on my arms. "I'm not the shallow Cordy-clone from high school. I've grown up, and commitment doesn't scare me anymore." The intensity in your voice faded a little. "But I guess I haven't been very good at telling you how I feel."

"We both kinda have issues with that, huh, B?"

A small smile appeared. "We do, F." I laughed. I couldn't help it. I loved it when you tried to sound like me. You sucked at it. California Girl and Southie don't mix too well. Warm hazel eyes raked my body. "Now, I'd like to try this again, OK? I have the expectations in mind. Just give me some time to get comfortable with the new role, alright, my Faith?"

My voice wasn't working too well, so I just nodded. It was more than alright. It was fucking unbelievable.

"Back over the horse, my Faith. And this time, I want to hear you ask for your punishment."

"Yes, Ma'am." I scurried back to the horse and bent over its surface, hands finding their abandoned places in the cuffs. It was high enough that only the balls of my feet touched the ground. You wandered over a couple of minutes later, and I could see the rubber flail swaying in the air. It was now or never. Closing my eyes and ignoring the burn of humiliation, I croaked out, "I'm sorry, Mistress, for trying to force you into a new role. I forgot my place and made decisions about our relationship. Please punish me so that I will remember the lesson in the future."

"Hmmm." I could hear your amusement and barely held back my answering smile. "We'll have to work on that, but the sentiment is genuine." A tendril of fear ran through me, but it paled next to the arousal. I was so hot, the rubber whip just might melt when it touched me. "Here are your rules, Faith. Your hands stay in the cuffs and your feet remain touching the floor. Any time that doesn't happen, we pick a new toy and start over. The punishment will test your limits, girl. You will count and thank me for each blow. Don't disappoint me."

"I understand, Ma'am." We were both feeling our way. Your voice shook a little at the end of your speech. As you paced out the proper distance for the flail, I tried to prepare for what was coming. When the first blow landed, I grunted. You certainly were giving it your all. "One, Mistress, thank you," I chanted. The next nineteen stripes followed a pattern. You worked the whip from the back of my right thigh up to the crest of my ass and then back down the left. By the end, my fists were clenched and I was barely whispering the count. Sweat and other bodily fluids ran down my body. I lay, panting, as you walked to the toy chest. I was too busy listening to my heartbeat and fighting off an orgasm to pay attention to what you were doing over there.

Which is why I screamed when the paddle landed. "I'm waiting, Faith," you snapped.

Huh? Oh, yeah…"Twenty-one, Mistress, thank you." _Don't cum, don't cum_ I chanted at my body. For the moment, it seemed to be listening. We went on like that for an eternity. I counted out the fiftieth swat in a strangled moan before you stopped again. My ass and thighs had to be glowing. You hadn't held back anything. Despite the flaring pain and the arousal, my mind was floating, and I was relaxed. No more fighting to stay in position or arguing with my body about seeking release.

"Stand up, my Faith." Blinking sweat and tears from my eyes, I slowly straightened. I was going to be feeling this for a while.

Once upright, I crossed my hands behind my back, very careful not to touch the fiery skin of my ass, and dropped my head. You had no such restraint. A small palm cupped a cheek and I bit my lip, not moving or making a sound even though I moaned in my head. "Excellent, my Faith. I think I could get used to having you like this: submissive, waiting. Kneel in front of the recliner, Pet. We're going to take of Mistress' needs."

I licked my lips, without thinking, and a pair of strong fingers wrapped in my collar. "Does that turn you on, my Faith/"

"Ye-yes, Ma'am." You were going to have to put a bucket on the floor to catch the moisture streaming out of my sex.

"Too bad. This isn't about you." You shoved me toward the chair and I stumbled across the floor, dropping gracelessly to my knees. I concentrated hard on finding some self control. It worked, a little. My breathing evened out and I wasn't on the edge of a screaming climax. One touch would do it, but as long as we were working on you, I'd be good.

You finally got done cleaning up and plopped into the chair. All my self control ran out of the house. Fucking hell. If there had been the slightest chance of a vamp, I would have thought you were Turned. You'd shed the tasteful skirt and blouse. You'd shed everything, and lounged back in the chair with your legs on either arm. I knew my eyes were supposed to be on the ground, but I was only human. I could see the moisture on your curls. Glad to know you weren't immune to our roles, even if you were still uncomfortable with being in control.

"Like what you see, my Faith?" A lazy hand slid up and down your right thigh.

"Yes, Mistress. Very much so." OK. So I didn't quite stick to the proper response. I was telling the truth. I _very much_ liked the view.

"Wonderful, Faith. Now, show me how you plan to serve me. I want to make sure being your Mistress has enough benefits to make up for all the long hours and hard work I'll be doing."

Hey, now. There was no need to get nasty. The whole 'call of the Dark Side' thing wasn't 24/7. Maybe 18/6. I didn't let your comment keep me from leaning forward, stopping inches from your dripping core. "Ma'am, may I touch you?" You'd said to service you, but I wanted to make sure hands were OK this time.

"Didn't I just say so, my Faith?" Sexual frustration gave you an edge.

"Yes, Ma'am." Now, normally, I'd drag this out. Do a little teasing and tormenting, but my ass and thighs were still on fire from the earlier punishment. Even I had limits. I reached up and started a light, gentle stroking on your inner thighs. You moaned and I almost joined you. I could smell your arousal. Pushing my own flaring need way down deep, I moved my hands to your mound, separating the drenched outer lips. I ran my tongue from your opening to your clit, and started lapping at the swollen bundle of nerves. You bucked, and I thought for a second it was all over. I should have known better. Your legs wrapped around me, heels digging into my back. Oh, yeah. My skills were showing. I needed some space, though, and I tensed against your grip, wiggling a little so I could get my hand in the right position.

In another situation, I'd worry about this without some lube, but you were plenty wet enough. I sank three fingers inside your walls, feeling your inner muscles pulling them in all the way. I stopping licking your clit and sucked on it instead. I could feel you stiffen. Time to hurry. Going for broke, I added a fourth finger, tucked my thumb into my palm, and pushed slowly. It was iffy for a minute. You grunted and I froze. I chanced a glance at your face. It was lined with concentration, but you didn't seem to be in any pain. Your inner muscles relaxed a bit, and I pushed in farther. Finally, my knuckles popped through the last barrier. My arm was buried inside. Man, what a feeling. I didn't even have to move before you screamed and thrashed in the chair.

You collapsed back in the chair, legs dropping from around me. I waited patiently for you to stop squeezing my hand and arm. When that happened, I pulled out slowly, feeling aftershocks fire through you. I sat back on my heels, wincing when my battered ass made contact. I was on the edge of climaxing just kneeling there, but I stubbornly held off.

"That was nice, my Faith." My head started to snap up. Nice? Who were you trying to kid, B? Nice so didn't cover what I just did for you.

"Thank you, Ma'am," I managed, though I think is sounded a little sarcastic.

You thought so, too. "Careful, Faith."

Ah, hell. "Sorry, Mistress."

"Come here." A small, imperious hand appeared in front of my face, palm up. I took it, and you pulled me up and onto the chair. It was a tight fit. I knelt over your lap, knees pressed between your outer thighs and the arms of the chair. My body shuddered, hoping it was my turn for some pleasure. It looked like it was my lucky day. I was almost embarrassed at how easily you pushed me over the edge. A single finger slid inside and your thumb pressed into my clit. "Cum for me, my Faith." And I did, slumping forward into your chest, gasping for air.

You stroked my arms and back while I came down from the pleasure high. Through the roaring in my ears, I heard you murmur, "I can't do this full-time, Baby. But, if you need the occasional helping hand with your Evil Twin, I'm ready."


	7. Chapter 7

Damn. Leave it to Willow and Kennedy to pick the lamest bar in Cleveland. It was empty, only a few lone drinkers huddled over bottles or glasses at corner tables. I slumped in my seat, conscious of the lack of action on the dance floor and tried to avoid watching the increasingly heated (and badly hidden) groping going on across from me. Why the hell had you agreed to meet the Deadly Duo? Friday was our night.

"So, what's with the date, Will?" You sounded innocent. I knew better. There was a smirk under that perky smile. That looked spelled trouble, and I was betting it was for me. You knew something I didn't.

Almost as if you'd doused them with water, Kennedy and Willow scooted to opposite ends of the booth. Willow's face was brighter than her hair and her mouth flopped open and closed. Some things never changed. As soon as she got a little self-control, the babble would start. I watched for the signs and did a mental countdown to the flood.

Ten…nine…eight…

It wasn't worth the effort. Before I even got halfway, Willow was off and running. "Oh, nothing. I mean, Kenny and I hadn't hung out with you for a while. You and Faith. Isn't it nice here? I like the decorations and the music. The food, though, that's not so good. Maybe we can have a drink or two and go to dinner? I know…"

Tuning out, I glanced across the table. Fuck, Kennedy had it bad. The kid was staring at Willow with the sappiest expression I'd ever seen. If you'd started gabbing like that, I'd have kissed you to shut you up. Of course, it was a moot point. You'd never hemorrhage at the mouth the way Willow did.

Too bad.

Thinking about you had one inevitable conclusion. I flung my right arm over the back of my chair and slouched until I had a better view of you. Even in the weird, pink lighting you looked beautiful. Who cared about Willow?

You caught me watching and the smirk grew wider. I was so busted. "Hanging out sounds good, doesn't it, Faith?" I wasn't expecting Willow's question – or your response.

Hanging out sounded like a terrible plan. Even I wasn't stupid enough to say that, though. "Whatever, B. You're the boss." I could down some Jack here as well as the next bar.

Something in your expression told me I'd walked into a trap. The smile you gave me had me covered in goose bumps. "That's right. I am." Your head tilted, hair escaping from the loose bun thing on the back of your head. "I keep forgetting that."

Oh, hell. I was an idiot. Just short of laughing, I asked, "You want me to help you remember, B? Write you a note? Send ya' an email?" Buy a new flogger off the internet?

The sounds of the bar faded when you leaned closer. A single finger traced along my neck from left to right. "I've got something else in mind, my Faith. Emails get accidentally deleted, and no one uses notes anymore."

"I do." I wanted to kill Willow. Didn't she get that we were having a moment? "Kenny bought me these really cool sticky notes, all colored to match my pens. I leave them all over the house."

"I don't think Faith's into sticky notes." Kennedy was irritating, but she wasn't completely clueless. She took Willow's hand and kissed her knuckles. "You're one of a kind, baby." I thought I'd puke. They were back to cuddling and crap – but at least they'd left us alone.

I wanted to know what you'd gotten me. There hadn't been anything in the mail today. Hell, all week. No way would you have toys sent to your office. Although…Now that I thought about it, you _had_ been acting secretive. Like you had when the padlock first went on the basement door.

My stomach tightened in time with my clit, and I shifted in my chair. My eyes searched your expression for a clue.

I didn't find one. Your eyes were hard to read thanks to the crappy lighting, and the only thing on your face was the smirk. It was hot. Kind of like the one you used when we played – with a hint more edge.

You stood up suddenly, catching me off guard. "B?" I asked. Were we leaving?

"I need a drink." Your eyes challenged me as you continued in a clipped voice. "Let's go."

I nearly jumped out of the chair at the tone. "Yes, ma…uh… Sure, B." That had been close. What the fuck was I doing? If I called you "ma'am" here, I'd never live it down. "You want to stay here? Don't need two people for four beers."

Your hand shot out and gripped my arm hard enough to leave a bruise. "We'll be back," you told Kennedy and Willow. Then you dragged me toward the tiny bar.

I hurried after you, stumbling at the pace. "B. Hey! Slow down." You were like a force of nature, though, and I nearly employed Slayer speed to keep from falling behind. If I did, my arm might come off, thanks to the way you held onto it.

Luckily, the trip wasn't a long one. Or, it shouldn't have been. You bypassed the bar without slowing down. What the hell? Had you hit the bottle _before_ we left the house? I considered putting a stop to things. Planting my feet and making you talk.

I didn't.

Whatever twist you had in your thong could wait until Kennedy couldn't hear us. There wasn't enough noise in the bar to block out super hearing, and no way did I want Slayer Smurf knowing our personal shit. Still trotting behind you, I let you lead us down a dirty, narrow hallway, past the bathrooms, and out a back door. Like every bar in every city, the door let out into an alley. Had I missed something? I went on alert. Maybe you weren't hitting the booze. I reached under my overshirt for the stake I'd tucked into my belt.

Before I got it free, though, you yanked on my arm. I stumbled. "Fuck, B…" I'd had enough. This had to stop – and it did, when you used my momentum to slam my back into the brick wall of the bar.

"Don't talk," you ordered.

It was unlikely I would have followed that command. I had too many questions and more than a few complaints. I didn't have a chance to voice them, though. You were on me as my brain still struggled to get the first gripe into words. I grunted from the impact as you pressed against me, one leg curling around my left hip.

Tonight might not be so bad after all.

Your hands burrowed under my overshirt, groping my breasts through the cotton of my T-shirt, and my nipples sprang to attention. So did the rest of me. I felt your nails even through my shirt when they raked down from my nipples to my stomach. Oh, yeah. "Harder, B. Please."

In a heartbeat, you had stepped away.

"B!" This was so wrong.

Another heartbeat and you were back, but not in any way I'd expected. Your hands tangled in the collar of my shirt and the next thing I knew the cold Cleveland air was brushing my bare skin. My shirt hung in tatters.

"I said don't talk." You were on a serious power trip, and I loved it. The same way I loved the way you spun me around and jammed my front into the wall. Now it wasn't your nails scraping my nipples, it was the brick. You leaned in tight against my ass and reached around.

My back arched out in response as you fingered my zipper. Even through the heavy denim of my jeans, I felt the pressure on my clit. You dragged your hand up and undid the button. The zipper inched down. Slowly. So damned slow I was panting and shaking and about to scream at you to hurry the fuck up.

Finally, my jeans gaped open and your hand dove inside. Two fingers combed through my pubic hair. "Enjoying yourself, my Faith?" Your words were muffled as you pressed you lips into my back.

"Fuck, yeah. So hot." I gasped and writhed as you stroked and teased my outer lips and brushed my clit. "Right there. God. Right there, B." If you kept it up, I was going to explode soon. It was embarrassing, really. I was all for the rough and tumble, yet a few soft touches and I was a quivering mess.

"Oh, I don't think so, Faith. Not now. I have plans, and I'm the boss, remember?" I nearly whined when you pulled your hand out of my jeans. I _did_ yelp when that same hand unexpectedly smacked my ass. "Turn around." You were back to the commands.

Body humming from the buildup, I shoved away from the wall and spun to face you. My shirt hung from my shoulders, leaving a lot of skin on display. I saw your eyes drift down as you zeroed in on my breasts. "Ain't done public nudity since that church bus, B." I held my arms out and pointed at my rock hard nipples. "You gonna bail me out when the cops show up?"

I didn't know if you were pissed at the question or if you just wanted to cop a feel, but you reached out and pinched both nipples. Hard. My arms dropped, hands automatically gripping your wrists.

"That will cost you." Son of a bitch. For the first time, I fully recognized that tone. A tone you'd only used one place until now: our basement. The playroom. The thing inside the bar hadn't been an accident. You'd planned this.

Cheeks hot despite the weather, I yanked my hands away. "Sorry." That wasn't right. However, for some reason, the right words caught in my throat.

You noticed my struggle. "You will be," you said very, very softly and I shivered. "It seems you've forgotten the…request you made last month. Let me refresh your memory." I watched in growing unease as you dug into the inside pocket of your jacket.

When they reemerged… Oh, shit. The thought flitted through my mind right before you stuffed your hand back into my pants and shoved the Smartball you'd been carrying all the way inside me.

"Help me, Buffy." You were talking. I dimly heard the words, my _own _words, repeated in your mocking lilt. "I can't control Dark Faith without you," you said. I couldn't follow the words, though. Not with the ridges from the ball teasing my g-spot and your fingers prodding my clit as you withdrew your hand again. Sweat beaded my hairline and slicked my skin. "How can I help you, if you don't remember asking me to be your Mistress. That _was_ what you wanted, right, Faith?"

Yes. Yes. Teeth clenched, I choked the word out on the third try. "Yes, ma'am."

"Excellent." You rewarded my response with a brilliant smile. "You know I only want to please you, Faith." The smile slipped away as you moved away again. "I left a bag in the car, my Faith. Get it. It has some things I want you to wear." Your confidence wavered; I saw the way your eyes flickered away and your hands rubbed against legs of your jeans.

The need to reassure you warred with the Game I was sure we were still playing. "Yes, ma'am." It was the right response; I hoped. If you had gone back to Vanilla Buffy, I'd be OK. If you hadn't… Well, I still had that little "gift" tucked inside, and I really wanted to see what you had in mind for the rest of the evening.

"I'll be at the table." You stared at me for a second, and I waited. What else did I need to know? Whatever it was, you weren't saying. Instead of spilling your other secrets, you spun and reentered the bar.

I thought about following you. It was fucking cold out here. My jacket was inside, and my T-shirt was useless. Pulling the tails of my overshirt together didn't help, _and_ the movement jostled the Smartball. It's ball bearing rolled every time I so much as breathed. Taking tiny steps, I inched my way through the alley and all the way around the building to the parking lot. I was cursing and on the edge of a screaming climax by the time I got to the car and dug the keys out of my pocket.

A small part of me wondered why the fuck I hadn't removed the Smartball. The rest of me remembered that I'd been the one to ask for everything you'd given me. And I was enjoying the hell out of it – when my clit wasn't the size of a walnut.

Finally, the car beeped and I heard the locks click open. Where were the clothes? Not in the front. I'd been driving on the way to the bar, but I still would have spotted any bags or whatever. That meant the back. I concentrated on carefully opening the door and peered hopefully inside. Damned Cleveland winter had me shivering – something I wanted to avoid at the moment. You hadn't said anything about not climaxing; still, I wasn't taking a chance on letting loose. Luckily, I spotted the bag stuffed behind the front seat immediately and dragged the zipper open.

Black leather pants, a black wife beater, and a pair of boots tumbled out of the duffel onto the back seat. "No." No way, Buffy. I'd rather go naked. This was the Dark Faith uniform. One I hadn't worn in years. One I was _never_, not even for you, donning again. You knew that; we'd talked about it once.

Still in denial, I automatically turned the bag upside down to empty it. A makeup case tumbled out along with the wardrobe you'd selected. Hands shaking, I pushed the case aside and stared at the leather pants. The clothes seemed to mock me. What was I afraid of? Unless Willow had put a spell on them, they were only clothes. One hand reached out as if it belonged to someone else. I certainly wasn't controlling it; I wasn't wearing the damned pants. Or the shirt. It didn't matter that you'd told me up front to put them on.

I wasn't wearing them.

My overshirt and the tattered remains of my T-shirt came off easily and a new wave of humongous goose bumps erupted as the cold air hit the rest of my skin.

I needed to warm up. That's why I pulled the wife beater over my head. It had nothing to do with your order or the look in your eyes before you left me in the alley. Why, then, did I toe off my tennis shoes and unbuckle my belt? Leather was probably better than jeans against the biting wind. They slipped easily over my legs and hips, hugging without becoming a second skin. They were soft and supple and familiar. Too familiar. My head caught up with my actions and I froze, barely breathing. All I needed was for "Blue Sun" to start playing and I'd be right back in Sunnydale and my first night in the Bronze. A few short months before my life fell into the crapper. As I tucked the wife beater into the pants, I wasn't me anymore.

Not Faith Lehane, ex-con. Not Faith, the Senior Slayer.

I was Faith of the no last name. Faith, the loner. Faith, who lived and breathed for the thrill of violence and the kill.

Two separate Faiths whispered in my ear as I stepped into the boots and opened the makeup kit. Like the angel and devil characters in cartoons, one Faith (the one in my now-normal jeans) warned me to be careful. To change back into my tattered clothes and run for cover. The other… Well, Dark Faith sang a sexier song. Go into the bar, grab Buffy for some dirty dancing, and see what trouble we could find. They kept talking as I drew a thick line of kohl around each eye and covered my lips in lipstick.

The yammering voices in my head and the ever-shifting Smartball made the trip back to the bar hard. Despite my lack of alcohol consumption, I probably looked like a boozer as I stumbled and staggered my way to the front door. The bouncer gave me a narrow-eyed look. Bet she didn't want to risk letting me near another drink in my "state".

Dark Faith roared, drowning out New Faith. I stepped into the bouncer's private space, rubbing into her in a way that should have gotten us both arrested for public lewdness. "You gonna let me in or do I gotta convince you, baby?" I purred. She was hard and muscled, and I was sure she could help take care of the fire your little toy had roaring in my oven.

Her hands shot out, gripping my hips and I grinned. This could be fun. Tensing, I got ready for a fight. The pleasuring would have to wait.

No. New Faith had my ear now. No, she warned. Bar fights were on the black list. Besides, we didn't need a fight. Buffy was waiting for us. In fact, Buffy had told us to meet her back at the table. Buffy was a lot more fun and exciting than a throw down with a mere bouncer. Buffy was all that mattered right now.

"Sorry," I told the glowering bouncer. "Just teasing." It was too dark in the bar for her to see my hand shake (I hoped) as I showed off the entry stamp from earlier. Stepping around her, I hurried across the mostly empty dance floor as if all the demons in Hell were after me. I'd been too close to the edge. "B!" I could see you at the table, laughing at something Willow said. Screw Willow. I needed you - before the Dark Faith devil on my shoulder convinced me to do something stupid. "B!"

You turned slowly, still smiling.

Then your eyes met mine and the smile vanished. You straightened and your jaw firmed and you held out a hand. "Faith, it's OK. I promise."

How could you know that? You hadn't been there when I'd tried to come on to the bouncer. You hadn't been there when I'd nearly welcomed a fight. I wanted to tell you that, but Willow interrupted. As usual.

"Wow. I haven't… Faith, what are you wearing? You look like a flash from the past." Willow didn't sound thrilled with the prospect. Neither was I. "Why did you change?"

I didn't have an answer. I was too busy clinging to your hand like a lifeline. I should have known you'd take care of things. Without looking away from my eyes, you answered, "I asked her to, Will. Faith and I…We're finally dealing with a few things."

Some lingering need for self-preservation kept me from laughing. _We_ were dealing? I was the one all tarted up. I was the one dealing with more than some chaffing from the leather pants and the gift you stuffed inside. There was no _we_.

You must have seen something in my eyes. I shuddered as you stepped closer and reached up to kiss my throat. "Thank you," you told me, voice barely penetrating the music. "I knew you could do it. I knew you could face your dark side. I wanted you to be sure, too."

"Anytime, B." I had no clue what you were talking about; that didn't mean I wasn't enjoying the rewards for following directions.

Your lips warmed my neck a second time before you pulled away. Still holding my eyes, you announced, "I wanted you and Kenn to be here tonight, Will. I wanted to share the good news." Reaching into your jean's pocket, you pulled out a thick gold chain with a circular medallion and held it up.

The lights from the bar winked over the swaying disk and I squinted. There was something written on it.

"What news?" Willow's voice rose, and I tuned her out.

I wanted to know what the medallion said. Leaning forward, I tilted my head. _M_. _My_. Damn it! Nearly growling in frustration, I gave up being polite and grabbed the chain.

_My Faith_, I read at the same time I heard you say, "Faith and I are getting married."


End file.
